Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece.

My childhood life overflowed with memories of visiting the Grand Line Stadium with Zeff and watched our favorite team, the North Blue Orcas. I cheered on my favorite team wearing the large baggy baseball uniform with the number five on the back. I have to say, my whole life was devoted to three things: cooking, baseball, and love.

Sometimes I kept all three separate, but other times I mixed them together in situations.

I heard about the special baseball terms my classmates explained to me. They referred to love as bases on a baseball field. Holding hands was first, kissing was second, putting their hands up the other's shirt was third and finally the home plate was the big finale. It was weird and I honestly didn't like it, but since it had references of baseball it appeared in my mind from time to time. And I had to compare myself to it.

Even though I was assailed with love letters every single day from women from first year to third, I chose a man as my lover. His name was Juraquille Zoro, the leader of the Kendo club. He had amazingly bright green hair, and I was surprised that the school never called on him about it. He usually was stoic and had a frown on his face, but when I brought over a box of lunch for him during breaks he made the most radiant smiles in the world.

We met in middle school. The more classes we shared the closer our friendship became, obviously. Eventually though, that close relationship got intimate and we spent our free times at the top floor of the school buildings and shared random conversations. Zoro was comfortable with me and was able to open his heart and talk freely with me.

One day, without me thinking much, during that free hour I asked Zoro, "Hey, do you want to go out?"

Zoro didn't look at me with disgust or twist his face in confusion. He just glanced up to me like usual and replied, "Sure," and sipped the rest of his carton of milk.

We were open about our relationship. Some of the few female students dropped silent tears down their cheeks whenever they saw us together. Some still continued to send me love letters in hopes I would give up on Zoro and pick one of them like a lottery ticket. There were some men-mainly in the Kendo club (Johnny and Yosaku)-were disagreeing with us just because they wanted to have a chance with him. I had to say, Zoro was quite a difficult character and only the people who truly understand him would be able to be with him.

Juraquille Zoro was just like his dad, Juraquille Mihawk, a war veteran from the recent Great War. Zoro entered and left the school whenever he liked and he mainly stayed at his favorite classes, the Kendo club. The classes I was in he stayed, but he slept most of the time. Strangely enough, his grades were unbelievably high for someone who ditched and slept class. It was the General (that's what Zoro called his dad)'s rule: he could do whatever he wanted but his test grades must be higher than eighty percent and his overall grades must be in the high nineties.

His older sister, Juraquille Perona, was attending Lolita Pretty College and was rumored to be the complete opposite of Zoro's personality. Believe me, I met her before but she was just as eccentric as the rest of her family. Her hair was bright pink and wore dresses and skirt matching it. Her room was also pink and filled with adorable stuffed animals and fluffy cushions. She had a sweet look on the outside but her tongue was as sharp as knives. I heard she made many men cry just by her insults. When I visited, she sometimes snuck into Zoro's room and stayed around to ask extremely intimate and also embarrassing questions.

Their mother died from a fatal accident a few years ago, right about when Zoro was still ten years old. Every year, the whole family goes away for the weekend to visit her. There were a few times when I was invited to go with them.

The three lived in an archaic mansion a few miles away from the school. It creaked and swayed when the wind blew. Eerily, the house was always cold whenever the season. Zoro told me that there lived a hundred ghosts in the home but he never seen one before. Perona seemed to feel the presence of ghosts and even communicate with them, which I could understand why she always barged into Zoro's room at the perfect time when we were about to lean in to kiss. Besides the home, the family had a warm atmosphere and it always was comfortable when I visited.

-.-.-

One day I was working on my homework and studying for the next week's exam while, of course, stealing a chance to watch the North Blue Orcas against the East Blue Pirates. My favorite team player, number five, was up for the bat.

He was an incredible player; his speed and his hitting averages were as great as the legendary baseball player Jirou. He was also the best looking in the whole team and he mainly appeared during interviews. He had many fans, including me but I was admiring him for his skills. In the screen, I watched as number five hit the ball and ran first and then to second in lightening speed. But before he reached to third, the ball was returned to the pitcher. He could have run the rest of the two bases are easily, if the next batter would have hit the ball. Unfortunately, the batter was out and the team had to switch.

I thought, as the frown was tightly snug on the player's face, the number five player was just like me.

Just like him I am voted one of the top five handsomest men in my high school. Just like him I am also the smartest and could play my favorite sport with proficiency level. And just like him, I was always stuck on second base, unable to move onto third.

We have been going out for a year and we are still in the 'second base' stage. It took only a month to hold hands but it took nine months to kiss. Sad? Pathetic? I guess.

It wasn't that Zoro didn't want it; he never asked. It was a difficult hurdle to know when Zoro was ready since he rarely talked, especially this topic. It could have been because we knew each other so much. I felt a wave when was the good time and when was not.

Plus, Zoro was...complicated. He had this extremely picky side about him. He had been going out with many different people; some common and others were daughters of veteran fathers. He also went out with other men. When the other acted too early, Zoro would disgust them; if the other acted too late, Zoro would abandon them. It made me wonder how I was never struck out yet.

Since we were so close it seemed though I could run up to third (or maybe home) whenever I wanted to but I never got the chance. It always slipped away from me and I had to return to the batter box for another round.

-.-.-

The first and second year of high school was hectic with clubs, tournaments, and homework. We were now both third years, so the clubs were not a problem anymore. This year was piles upon piles of exams, one after the other, and the constant pressure from the teachers about college and future jobs. With this in the way, the time between us lessened.

It was December and the skies were gray and the air was icy cold. Thankfully, after all of the exam hell, tomorrow was winter break. The school already ended but I was waiting for Zoro at the doorway of the Kendo class. Even though he wasn't allowed to participate in the tournaments anymore, he was around to train the younger grades. The 'training' time took longer than usual clubs so by the time Zoro was heading out, it was past seven o'clock.

My nose was red and running and every breath I made created large puffy clouds of mist. I was wrapped up in a scarf and the school uniform coat but I was still shivering to the bones. Zoro walked up to me with a subtle concern on his face. Compared to me, he was still steaming from the rough training. He put his warm hands up to the sides of my face and I gathered the warmth as much as I could.

"Did you wait?"

"Nah, not at all."

"Liar." Zoro pinched my nose, "You're freezing cold. Why didn't you wait inside?"

"I like being outside." That was half true. The main reason why was because the Kendo club reeked thickly of men's body odor. Zoro shrugged as if he didn't want to talk about the subject anymore and headed to the main gates. I quickly followed after.

The sky was inky black and the only light source were the lamp posts illuminating the streets. We walked together, side by side, watching our breaths fluff up in white clouds.

"What are you going to do for winter break?" Zoro asked suddenly.

I blinked at Zoro and took me a while to get the answer ready. "Studying, I guess...and help around at Zeff's work." I opened my mouth to ask the same question back but the answer, I remembered, was the same every year.

During winter break, Zoro's family left town to go to the famous hot spring resort. It was an annual event they did and it always lasted the whole week. That meant, I wasn't able to meet Zoro-not even through the phone. My heart sank a few pounds at the thought.

I sighed involuntarily but I asked anyway, "Are you going to Yuba Hot Springs?"

"Nah, not this year."

I couldn't hide my surprise. "What? R-really? T-then what is your family going to do this year?"

...then Zoro made a face, "What? They're going to Yuba Hot Springs."

"...But you just said-"

"They're going, but I'm not."

"Why?"

"I need to study. Next month's social studies." Zoro stuffed his hands in his pockets.

I chuckled, "Oh yeah, that's not your favorite subject. So, are you going to give up the whole vacation to study for the whole week?"

He nodded, "Yeah, a whole week at home." He suddenly turned away from me and stared down at the ground, "General said I'm allowed to invite people over, with an exception."

"Exception?"

"'Leave the house as it is.'"

"Oh." The conversation ended and we were silent once again, but my head was ringing with the words Zoro had said. If Zoro was thinking of what I was thinking- and I was beginning to feel dizzy. Did the pitcher throw a sweet pitch and I was about to hit a home run? Was he inviting me over?

"C-can I come over tonight?" I smiled tentatively, emphasizing the tonight, "I'm good with social studies."

Zoro shrugged, "If you want."

I brought out my hand and Zoro gently took it. His hand was very warm; was it from the pocket or the same heat reaching his cheeks? I squeezed it and lead the way.

We were finally going to get some alone time.

I wonder how many home runs I was going to hit this weekend.

The End